


Someday

by evilwriter37



Series: Scholar’s Mate [23]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gen, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Modern AU, Shame, Therapy, abuse mention, drug mention, therapist OC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25189384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Hiccup goes to therapy after everything that happened with Viggo.
Series: Scholar’s Mate [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251188
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Someday

“So, what brings you in, Hiccup?” The therapist, Rick, was looking at the papers that Hiccup had filled out upon coming into the office. “Depression? Anxiety?”

“Anxiety mostly.” Hiccup wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He’d never been to a therapist before. How was this supposed to work? Was Hiccup allowed to call him by his first name? Well, he’d introduced himself that way, so that could be the case. Was he going to psychoanalyze him, diagnose him with a million disorders, give him a referral to someone to get meds? Judge him poorly? Call him a degenerate freak? This was all new to him and it frightened him. He was glad that Fishlegs was out in the waiting room. His friend hadn’t wanted him to come to his first session alone. 

Rick put the papers down on his desk. He sat in a chair across from Hiccup, who sat nervously on the end of a gray couch. The decorations in the office were rather drab, save for the things it seemed Rick had added himself. Those stood out like a sore thumb. 

“Let’s talk about where that anxiety could be stemming from.” Rick’s voice was calm, very different from how Hiccup was feeling. “Tell me about yourself.”

“About… me?”

“Yes.” Rick nodded, smiled. “This session is all about you.”

Hiccup cleared his throat. “Well, I’m a college student,” he started. “I’m studying engineering.”

“How are your grades?”

Hiccup didn’t like that question. Was he going to think poorly of him for his bad grades like a professor would? Like a  _ certain  _ professor would?

“Uh…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not that great,” he admitted. “I had to drop a class and I’m failing a few others.” And of  _ course _ he’d had to drop a class. There was no way he could have stayed in Viggo’s class after what had happened.

Rick nodded. He took out a clipboard and a pen, wrote something down. Hiccup tried to read it but couldn’t see from his angle. Besides, it was upside down from his viewpoint. 

“Just taking some notes for your file,” Rick said. He crossed one leg over the other, looked to Hiccup. “Are you struggling in the classes? Are they particularly difficult?”

Hiccup shook his head. “They’re fine. I understand most of the material. I just… missed a few weeks due to some personal drama.”

“Personal drama. Can you tell me about that?”

Hiccup leaned back, looked at the ceiling. “God, where do I begin?” Something about Rick was making him want to open up to him. There were hardly any people that knew about what had really happened. And this would remain confidential. That was good. 

“Wherever you think is best.”

“I met him at the chess club,” Hiccup said after a while. He was looking at the floor now, drumming his fingers on his knees. “My ex-boyfriend that is. It all started with him.”

“Yes?”

“He just… drew me in. He has this presence like nothing else, and the way he speaks and acts is so enamoring.” Even after all the horrible things that had happened, Hiccup still found himself attracted to Viggo. And that made him feel horrible. He shouldn’t feel attracted to this man. Not in the slightest. Not when he’d hurt and abused him and put him out there for all to see. But god, like he’d said, something about him was so damn enticing. 

Hiccup kept speaking, feeling like he could now, realizing this could be a safe space. Rick so far hadn’t judged him, it seemed. Hopefully he wouldn’t do so as he continued with his story. There was something about spilling all of it that Hiccup wanted to do.

“He invited me over his house that Friday.” Hiccup remembered all of this vividly, though it had happened months ago. His first night with Viggo was one of the clearer memories of him. He’d left a lasting impression. 

“We played chess. He won.” Hiccup didn’t know why he included that detail. “There was wine involved. We, um, had sex. Lots of sex.” There was always sex when Viggo was involved. 

“Is that a good memory, neutral, or bad?” Rick asked. He looked poised to start writing again.

“Um…” Hiccup had to think about it. Somehow, everything that had happened with Viggo hadn’t tainted that memory. He wanted it to. He wanted to hate it, but he didn’t, and he didn’t understand why. “Good memory,” he finally answered. He didn’t know how to explain all the complicated things he was feeling about that, so he went on with his story. He told of the dates he’d gone on with Viggo, how much he’d enjoyed their time together.

“How old was this man?” Rick asked. 

“Uh…” Hiccup flushed, looked at his shoes. “Thirty eight.” He said it quietly, shamefully. He now understood why his dad had been upset about him dating someone older. He understood why people didn’t date outside of their age range like that. It had slapped him in the face so harshly that he was embarrassed. He felt stupid for not realizing any of this sooner. 

Rick said nothing, just wrote something down. Then: “So he was a professor I’m guessing?”

“Yes.” Hiccup practically squeaked it. God, he felt so ashamed. 

“You don’t have to feel shame over this,” Rick said. So he was perceptive. No wonder he was a therapist. 

“But I feel like I should have known,” Hiccup argued, meeting him in the eye. “I feel like I should have realized that something bad was going to happen.”

“So something bad did happen?”

“Yeah. Really bad.” 

“Do you feel comfortable telling me about it?”

Hiccup shifted his legs nervously. “I don’t know…”

“That’s alright. For now, maybe we can work on how to cope with the anxiety this situation has caused. Would you like that?”

Hiccup would do anything to feel better again, to feel like himself again. That was why he had come here. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, and he wasn’t as involved in the things he enjoyed. There almost seemed to be a constant sense of panic and impending doom in his stomach.

“What do you like to do for fun?” Rick asked. “We’ll start there.”

“I like to draw, watch movies, and play video games,” Hiccup said. “But I’ve hardly been doing any of that lately. I start, and then the anxiety gets so bad that I can’t do anything. It’s like I freeze and panic.”

“That’s understandable,” Rick said with a nod. “But getting back into your hobbies can actually help you. Drawing can be relaxing, and the other things can take your mind off of everything that’s bothering you.”

“That makes sense,” Hiccup said. “It’s just… so hard.”

“Well, why don’t next session you bring your sketchbook, and we can work on getting you back into it. Sound good?”

Hiccup nodded. He didn’t mind drawing in front of other people. That sounded fine to him. 

Rick set his clipboard and pen aside, folded his hands and leaned forward. “Now, let’s talk about some coping mechanisms.”

  
  


“How did it go?” Fishlegs asked as Hiccup entered the waiting room, squeezing a yellow stress ball in his left hand. 

“Good, actually,” Hiccup told him. “I didn’t tell him everything, but he gave me some coping strategies for the stress and anxiety.”

“That’s good!” Fishlegs stood. “I’m glad you came here Hiccup. Are you having another session with him?”

Hiccup nodded. He was actually feeling a little bit better from all this, and he was feeling like he wanted to continue. He trusted Rick a little bit more. Maybe he could tell him more next time. 

“You have your next appointment scheduled?”

Hiccup took the card out of his pocket and showed it to Fishlegs. “Same time next week.”

“Do you still want me to come with you?”

“If that’s alright with you.”

“It’s fine, Hiccup!” Fishlegs clapped him on the shoulder as they left the office. “I’d do anything to help you.”

Hiccup smiled. It was good to be with his friends again. “Thank you.”

  
  


Hiccup sat in front of Rick, sketchbook in his lap, art kit open next to him. He planned on drawing a dragon. He loved dragons. 

But to start. God, his hand was shaking. He held the pencil to the paper. His stomach twisted and he was sweating. Heat flashed through his veins. 

_ You can do it, Hiccup,  _ he coached himself.  _ You can do it.  _

He drew one line, but suddenly his thoughts became overwhelming. God, how many people had seen what Viggo had put out there? How many people on his campus knew about all this? How many people thought he was a freak for being queer and dating someone older than him?

He put the pencil down, feeling tears in his eyes.

“I can’t do it,” he declared. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Starting is going to be difficult,” Rick told him. “But I believe you can do it after you get past that. It’ll get easier, more relaxing. Your thoughts will drift away.”

Hiccup could understand that. Sometimes when he did art, that was all he was able to focus on. He needed that focus back. He picked up the pencil again, grit his teeth. The thoughts would come. He knew that, but he had to get past them.

He drew another line, then another, began shaping the dragon’s body. Then he kept going, and going. He could do this! He could!

“Do you want to talk while you draw?” Rick asked. 

“Sure.” He was focused now, but maybe he could talk about the thoughts he was having while doing this. Maybe they would just flood out of him.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I never told you his name.” A wing began to form. “Viggo. He’s one of the business professors at my school. I’m not into business, but I took one of his classes to be closer to him. That’s the one I had to drop. Now I realize it was a stupid decision to take a course with my partner, but… I did it.”

“Your decisions aren’t stupid,” Rick said. “Maybe ill-informed, but never stupid. You had your reasons for doing what you did.”

“O-okay.” Hiccup swallowed hard, looked at Rick. “Not stupid.”

Rick nodded. “Not stupid.”

Hiccup went back to his drawing. He had to erase a little bit, and that made him feel bad, but he figured he would get the shape that he wanted. He never used to feel bad when he messed up on his art, but ever since Viggo, he felt like he needed to be perfect. He decided to voice that.

“He made me feel like I had to be perfect,” Hiccup said. “Because, I guess, maybe in his eyes, I was perfect sometimes. He at least told me that.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yeah. It was in the way he treated me. He lavished me, really, treated me to gifts and expensive restaurants. We even went to the Netherlands over winter break.” That time was vivid in his memories as well. He’d never done drugs before that, and he’d almost never done drugs again. Of course, there had been the few times with Dagur and the marijuana, but that wasn’t even close to heroin. 

“How was that?”

“Uh… interesting.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Hiccup put down his pencil. He felt ashamed. “I did drugs,” Hiccup said. “Hard drugs. Heroin. That was the first time I’d ever touched the stuff. And I’m never doing it again.” He’d liked the effects, but he realized how dangerous it was. The high wasn’t worth it.

“Why do you think you did that?” No judgment in his voice, just curiosity, pushing a little for Hiccup to come to a realization.

“Viggo made me,” Hiccup said. “I let him inject me with it. I didn’t really feel like I had much choice.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I did.” Hiccup scratched his head, turned his sketchbook a little, peering at the drawing. He felt more comfortable talking to Rick while doing something else. It let him focus on more things at once, and made him feel more relaxed. “We were at a sex club. We met some people that had the drugs.”

“And did you have sex with him there?” Again, not judgmental. That made Hiccup feel good. He’d been so afraid of being judged, because he felt like surely everyone was doing that, but no. Here was someone that was just accepting what he was telling him.

“Yeah. I-it was… really good.”

“I take it you liked your sexual relationship with Viggo?”

Hiccup nodded, went back to drawing. The dragon had eyes now. Its wings still needed some help to take shape though. “It kinda seemed to take over everything else though. Like, the man  _ loves  _ sex. And he made me love it too.”

“Had you ever had sex with a man before?”

“No,” Hiccup answered truthfully. “Though, there was… one thing that happened.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hiccup had never talked to anyone about what Dagur had done before, and it seemed strange to do so now that Dagur had turned his life around and apologized profusely for what he’d done. Dagur was a different person, not the same one that had hurt him.

“I was molested,” Hiccup finally said after some time in silence. “In high school.”

“Did you ever tell anyone?”

“No. I was too ashamed. I thought it was my fault. I realize now that it wasn’t, that the guy who did it to me had personal issues to work on.”

“Do you forgive him? It sounds like you might have.”

Hiccup hardly forgave Viggo for what he’d done, and he didn’t think he ever would, but Dagur, Dagur he could forgive. They’d talked about it, worked through it together. Dagur was a different person now. 

“Yes. We, uh, actually reconnected recently,” Hiccup explained. “We talked about it. He’s been through a lot of stuff. He apologized. He genuinely felt bad for what he’d done, and I could see that.”

“Is it a bad memory though?”

Hiccup nodded as he sketched. “Very bad. I have nightmares sometimes. Or I stay up at night thinking about it. I didn’t tell my dad because I figured he thought it would be my fault. He doesn’t even know about all this stuff that happened with Viggo. I’m too afraid. He hated me dating him. We had a huge fight over winter break and I haven’t seen him since. I’ve hardly talked to him. All our conversations are just awkwardly checking in on each other. And I lie every single time, tell him I’m doing okay, that I’m going to my classes.”

“How was your relationship with your father before this?”

“Pretty good,” Hiccup responded. “Even in our argument he pointed out that he didn’t mind that I was bi.”

“But you don’t tell him all this because he’s quick to anger, I assume?”

“Very.” Feet. The dragon needed legs and feet. Hiccup hated those, but he was sure he could do it well. “And he was so mad about me dating Viggo. So, so mad.”

“How come?”

“The age difference,” Hiccup explained. “And, he, uh, thought he was abusing me. My friend Fishlegs told him that he saw bruises on me kind of frequently.”

“What were the bruises from?”

Hiccup blushed furiously. He’d been avoiding telling Rick about his kinks. How would he feel about those?

“Um… I let Viggo hit me,” Hiccup said. “In bed.”

“Was it abusive or something else?”

“It was kink,” Hiccup explained. “Viggo’s very into kink.” He was drawn to thinking of his basement, of all the pleasurable memories he had down there. He almost got a hard on, but then he thought of the bad things that had happened there, and his arousal very quickly died. 

“And are you?”

“I didn’t think I would be at first, but yes, I am.” He looked at Rick, searched his eyes for any signs of judgment. It wasn’t there. He wasn’t thinking poorly of him for this. He didn’t think he was some sort of freak. 

“What kinds of kinks?”

“I’m not very comfortable answering that right now.” Hiccup’s face was a slight pink.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” Hiccup went back to drawing, didn’t say anything for a while. Finally, he broke the silence.

“It wasn’t bad the whole time,” Hiccup said. “With Viggo. But there must have been signs… signs that he was doing something wrong.”

“So it did become abusive?”

“Very,” Hiccup admitted.

Rick was going over to his desk, then rifling through some papers. He came back with a sheet, handed it to Hiccup. “Do any of these look familiar?”

Hiccup took the sheet of paper. At the top it read: “Red Flags for Relationship Abuse”. Hiccup swallowed. It was hard admitting that he’d been abused, that he’d been hurt by someone he’d loved and trusted. He was afraid to read on, but he did. Some signs included looking through one’s things, invading privacy, isolating one from their friends and family. That all sounded exactly like Viggo, and it made Hiccup’s chest hurt and his throat constrict. He felt tears in his eyes. He angrily wiped them away. He didn’t want to cry in front of someone he hardly knew. 

Rick had sat back down by the time Hiccup was finished, was just waiting patiently.

“Yeah,” he choked out. He set the paper aside, feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah, it sounds like him. I just… I didn’t know. No one told me. I… I feel stupid. I feel like I should have known.”

“But no one talked to you about all this.”

Hiccup shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, Hiccup. That’s not fair to you at all.” Rick shook his head. “There need to be programs in school or something, because not all parents teach their children about abuse. Not all parents know what abuse looks like. We can’t leave it up to parents to teach these kinds of things.”

“You seem very into this topic.” Hiccup got back to working on his drawing. His hand was shaking a little. 

“It’s what I do,” Rick said. “I’ve had patients who have been in abusive relationships before. You’re not the only one this has happened to, Hiccup. There’s no need to feel ashamed.”

“But I  _ do _ feel ashamed. How do I deal with that?”

“That’s going to be difficult, Hiccup. Firstly, do you feel like this was your fault? It’s very common for that to happen.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, do you have a mirror in your dorm?”

“Yes?” Hiccup didn’t understand where this was going.

“You’re going to have to look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that this wasn’t your fault.”

“But… How?”

“We can start here. No mirror, but start by telling yourself it’s not your fault. Say, ‘Hiccup, this is not your fault.’”

Hiccup put down his drawing. He felt like his chest was constricting. How was he supposed to do this? It didn’t just feel silly: it felt downright  _ wrong _ . It was his fault, wasn’t it? All of it? He should have seen what was happening, should have understood. He should have never gotten into the relationship in the first place. 

“Hiccup…” That was how to start. Tears trickled down his face. “It’s not…” He choked up, had to start again. “It’s not… y-your fault.”

“Good. Say it again.” Rick’s voice was soft, not demanding.

Hiccup frantically shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t.” His tears were coming faster now. He felt on the verge of sobbing. God, this felt so horrible. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to do it right now.” Rick held out a hand to stay him. “Take a deep breath. You can get back to your drawing.”

“Okay.” Hiccup wiped at his face, took a deep breath like Rick had directed. “Okay.” He picked up his drawing again. Time to add details to the wings.

  
  


It was Hiccup’s third session with Rick. He went alone this time, feeling more comfortable. His dragon drawing from last time was now hanging on the wall of his dorm. He was proud of himself for accomplishing it. He’d brought his sketchbook again, but he didn’t know if he would get a chance to draw. He wanted to talk more about Viggo, about the things he’d done to him, about the  _ big thing  _ he’d done to him. He wanted to get out all that humiliation and shame, because really, it helped to talk about it, he’d been realizing. Keeping it bottled up inside was horrible and lonely. This was better. It felt like he had someone on his side. 

Hiccup was sweating a little as he sat in the waiting room, and it had nothing to do with the heat - the inside was air conditioned anyway. He looked when he heard footsteps coming down the hall, and sure enough, it was Rick.

He waved a hand. “Hiccup, come on in.”

Hiccup stood, followed Rick down the hallway to his office. There was a noisemaker outside as always, so that no one else heard their conversation. That was good. These conversations weren’t for anyone else. 

“How have you been since last time?” Rick asked as he closed the door and took a seat. Hiccup took his usual spot on the couch, but not as close to the edge of it as he had the first two times. He was starting to feel a little more relaxed around Rick, and about speaking about all this. 

“Pretty good,” Hiccup answered. It didn’t feel like a lie.

“Did you happen to work on any of the things we did in here?” Rick asked. “Drawing, telling yourself it’s not your fault?”

Hiccup nodded. “I tried it. In the mirror.” He ran a hand through his hair. “God, it was so hard.” He remembered his first time saying it to himself in the mirror. He’d been all alone in his dorm room, which maybe hadn’t been the best idea. He’d looked himself in the eye and firmly said it wasn’t his fault. That had hurt, like a knife stabbing into his chest. The next time he’d said it, it had come out weaker, almost like a whimper. He’d been crying, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t look himself in the eye. Afterwards, he’d just curled into a ball on his bed and cried while hugging himself. He’d wished he’d had someone with him, that he’d had someone to hug. But then, when Fishlegs had come back later that evening, he hadn’t told him about it. He’d just acted like everything was fine. He didn’t know why. He felt ashamed of himself for not being able to do something that was seemingly so simple. 

“How did you react?” Rick had his pen and clipboard, but that didn’t make Hiccup as nervous as it had the first time. 

“I cried,” Hiccup responded honestly. “I curled into a ball and laid there for about an hour.” He shook his head. “Will it get any easier?” 

“It will,” Rick told him. “I know it seems impossible right now, but it will. You’ll be able to tell it to yourself and really feel it and understand it. Someday, you’ll realize this wasn’t your fault, and it won’t hurt to tell yourself that.”

That… did seem impossible. From where Hiccup sat now, it seemed completely crazy that Rick would say such a thing. How could it get like that? How would it ever get so easy?

“Things  _ will  _ improve for you.” So Rick had seen the look on his face. “I promise. That’s what you’re here for. That’s what you’re working towards. You’re strong, Hiccup, but it’s okay to ask for help.”

Hiccup hesitated, then nodded. Yes, it was okay to ask for help. That’s what he’d done in coming here. 

“And how has drawing been going?”

Hiccup smiled, opened his sketchbook to show him the last few pages. “I’ve been doing it more, and it feels really good.”

“That’s excellent, Hiccup!”

“It’s still hard to start.” Hiccup set the sketchbook down in his lap, fiddled with his pencil. “Sometimes it’s like a false start. I’ll draw a line, then become overwhelmed and leave. I come back to it a few hours later and have to start again.”

“But you still did it, Hiccup,” Rick told him. “You still persevered through that anxiety and sense of being overwhelmed. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Hiccup felt like that was true. He  _ had  _ persevered. 

“Do you want to draw again today?” Rick asked.

“Maybe,” Hiccup answered, still playing with his pencil. He dropped it on the carpeted floor, had to lean over and pick it up. He felt nervous all over again. “There’s… something I want to talk about.”

“Alright.” Rick leaned back in his chair. God, Hiccup wished he could be as relaxed as the therapist seemed to be. “Start wherever you feel comfortable.”

Hiccup drew a line, but then thoughts rushed up at him, the feelings of shame and humiliation. He set his sketchbook and pencil aside. He swallowed hard, looked at the floor. How could he start? 

“I… I let Viggo film me,” Hiccup said. “And take pictures. I let him film us having sex. He said they were just for us, and I believed him.”

“Did he do something with the pictures and videos?”

“When I ran away from him,” Hiccup started, feeling tears in his eyes, an ache in his throat, “he put them up online. For anyone and everyone to see. I don’t… I don’t know how many people saw them.” Humiliation stabbed him in the gut. Those were still up there, had yet to be taken down. Hiccup hadn’t gone to the police. He could have, but god, the thought of police knowing he was queer, knowing he was into kink, knowing what he looked like naked, what he sounded like when he had sex… All of it was too terrible. So the videos had stayed up. 

“Are they still up?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. He still looked at the floor. He could feel heat in his cheeks.

“Do you want to go to police about this?” Rick asked. “It’s illegal to do something like that. They can get them taken down.”

“No, no.” Hiccup shook his head. “I can’t. They’d… they’d see everything.”

Rick nodded. “I understand. That’s a lot to deal with, Hiccup. How have you been coping?”

“Mostly by hating myself,” he responded. “I hate that I let Viggo film us. I shouldn’t have trusted him like that.”

“He was your partner,” Rick said. “You felt like you  _ could  _ trust him. That’s what abusers do. It’s not your fault. It’s entirely his.”

“I know that,” Hiccup said. “Well, I want to know that. I want to feel it for sure.”

“And you will someday. It’s okay that you can’t feel it right now.”

Hiccup took a deep breath. It felt like a boulder had just been taken off his chest. He thought of his dragon that he’d drawn, of how the wings had turned out. Maybe those wings could someday be his.

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. The wings were sprouting from his back. “Someday.”


End file.
